


just fine // mgc/afi

by splashaesthetic



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bronx - Freeform, Brooklyn, F/F, F/M, M/M, New York, New York City, Queens, artist!michael, englishstudent!Calum, musicstudent!Luke, photographer!ashton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-10-20 13:44:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10663848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/splashaesthetic/pseuds/splashaesthetic
Summary: Madi had a boyfriend who she loved unconditionally but she wasn't alright.Ashton believed every "just fine" Madi would give him to swallow.She thought she was good at hiding things until the day a stranger with purple hair asked what was wrong.Maybe Madi wasn't that good at hiding things. maybe it was just Ashton who didn't care enough.





	1. PLAYLIST + WARNINGS

**_PLAYLIST + WARNINGS_ **

**_1\. 5 SECONDS OF SUMMER – BESIDE YOU_  
2\. THE NIEGHBOURHOOD – STAYING UP  
3\. BLACKBEAR – I NEEDED YOU  
4\. LANA DEL REY – SAD GIRL  
5\. 5 SECONDS OF SUMMER – WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER  
6\. TWENTY ONE PILOTS – HEAVYDIRTYSOUL  
7\. 5 SECONDS OF SUMMER – HEARTBREAK GIRL  
8\. 5 SECONDS OF SUMMER – LONG WAY HOME  
9\. THE WEEKND – TRUE COLORS  
10\. 5 SECONDS OF SUMMER – DISCONNECTED  
11\. LANA DEL REY – SUMMERTIME SADNESS  
12\. 5 SECONDS OF SUMMER – VAPOR  
13\. THE WEEKND – DIE FOR YOU  
14\. 5 SECONDS OF SUMMER – OUTER SAPCE / CARRY ON  
15\. HALSEY – GASOLINE  
16\. BLACKBEAR – WEAK WHEN UR AROUND  
17\. ZAYN – SHE DON'T LOVE ME  
18\. 5 SECONDS OF SUMMER – BROKEN HOME  
19\. BLACKBEAR – NYLA  
20\. 5 SECONDS OF SUMMER – JET BLACK HEART  
21\. HALSEY – DRIVE  
22\. LANA DEL REY – RELIGION  
23\. LANA DEL REY – CRUEL WORLD  
24\. LANA DEL REY – YAYO  
25\. LANA DEL REY – BLACK BEAUTY  
26\. HALSEY – TOUBLE (STRIPPED)  
27\. ZAYN – FOOL FOR YOU  
28\. THE NEIGHBOURHOOD – HOW  
29\. BLACKBEAR – IDFC **  
**30\. ARCTIC MONKEYS - NO 1 PARTY ANTHEM**

  
**BEFORE you start reading this story, there's a few warnings:**

**This story is really triggering. It will contain strong language, mentions of suicide, self-harm, depression and such. So, if you are sensitive to these topics, do not read or read at your own risk. Attention, I'm not romanticizing depression.**

**Depression is not cute, it's a real problem and there's people out there who suffers with it. Please, don't think I'm romanticizing it, because that is the last thing I'm doing with this book. This is just a way of showing that there are people who have thoughts and suffer with similar things like the main character of this book and there's people who need help but don't get it.**

**If you start reading this book and relate to any thought the main character says, please, talk to somebody. It's not heathy or good for you to keep it to yourself.**

**I think that's all. I hope you enjoy the story.**

**Stay sexy.**


	2. CIGARETTE 0

**_CIGARETTE 0_ **

The tears sliding down my cheeks are cold against my heated skin. I tried, I tried to stop them from falling so quickly. I'm still trying, but there's nothing that I can do to stop them.

Leaving a wet trail down my red cheeks, the tears fall countlessly, staining my white skirt.

I came across a point that I don't know why they fall anymore, they just do and I can't stop them.

I'm so pathetic that I don't even know why I'm cry anymore.

The room is dark and the only light it's from the full moon that is coming through the open window. The air entering in the room isn't enough for me to breath, so I step outside to the fire escape sitting on the second step.

My trembling hands look for my cigarette pack in my black hoddie's pocket. Opening it, I find only one cigarette along with my lighter. I take both out, throwing the empty pack inside the window to my room and light the cigarette between my lips.

Why do things got to be like this? Will it ever get better? Or it will get even worse.

So worse that you stop sleeping, that not even your dreams can save you. You start feeling so helpless and hopeless all you want to do is to disappear and leave this world.

Alone, shattered, unfixable.

I stained too many skirts and pair of jeans with blood drops to feel better, to feel some kind of relief.

Tonight, there's no cigarette or cut that can make me feel more relieved. Tonight, there is nothing that can make me breathe.

Everything is suffocating me. Life is suffocating. The blood dripping down my arms and my lungs filled with smoke makes breath better. It's like a hand had a tight grip on my neck and as soon as the smoke fills my lungs or the blood start dripping, the grips loosens and lets me breathe a little more.

But tonight, not even those things make the grip around my neck loosen.

I wonder where he is.

Maybe still partying out there with his friends while I can barely breath.

But that's ok, what matters is that is happy and not seeing the mess I truly am. If he saw, he would leave me and I can't bear with it.

Just the thought makes my heart ache.

I love him so much. But my love it will never be enough. I'm not enough. He deserves the world and I can't give him that.

I let out a cry of frustration. The wind hitting my skin softly. It's refreshing, but not enough. I can still feel the agony clutching my heart so tightly.

My gaze moves from my bare feet to down the street. It's high. If I fell down, would it kill me? Would a fall from the 5th floor kill me?

If I knew it did, I wouldn't think twice and I would jump off.

I'm tired. I'm tired of feeling this way. I'm tired of the sleepless nights, I'm tired of trying and never succeed.

I can't make anyone proud of me. Not even myself.

I'm failing at my classes, I'm failing with him, I'm failing in life.

My life is full of failures and I'm the biggest one.

It's too cold to be outside. The autumn night is cold in New York. Too cold just to be with a skirt and a hoddie outside, but the cold doesn't bother me. I actually don't even feel it.

There's no more cigarette, it already burnt out. I throw it down, hopping it doesn't hit anyone's head.

I hear the apartment's door closing in a thump and quickly go back inside, wiping and drying my tears away with the back of my hand.

The house's heat hits my body, making it shiver. I close the window, picking up the empty cigarette's pack that landed on the bed beside the window minutes ago and shove it into the bin by the desk. The room is lighted with the yellow light coming from the half-opened door.

I open it completely, the strong yellow light burning my eyes and I see him with a wide smile, taking his coat off. He looks so happy. I love seeing him with a smile on his face. I love the way his dimples complete his smile so angelically.

He's such an angle.

"Hey babe, how are you?" He asks, not really looking at me, as he takes off his shoes.

"I'm fine." I swallow the lump in my throat with a smile. "What about you?"

"I' great." He looks up, sending me a big smile and starts walking to the kitchen.

I just watch him disappearing through the door and mutter under my breath, like a reminder to myself. "I'm just fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was just kind of a short prologue, so yeah. I hope you enjoyed. The following chapters


	3. CIGARETTE 1

_**CIGARETTE 1** _

It's warm inside. It feels much better than outside. I wish his heart felt like the heat of this coffee shop where I sit every day with a hot coffee while I look outside the window and watch the snow fall gracefully on the dirty pavement as the people pass by with a smile on their faces.

The black coffee on the paper cup warms my hands the way I wish his love warmed my heart.

I know he cares, I know he loves me. He says it every day before he leaves for college, so it's true. Why would he lie?

I'm no-one to talk. I lie to him every day, but he doesn't know. I know we aren't supposed to hide things from the ones we love and we shouldn't keep secrets from them, but I can't help it, you know? How do we tell them we aren't alright without seeming selfish? How do I tell him that maybe I'm not alright every time he asks me how I am?

You can't. You don't. You always keep it to yourself. you don't tell the others how you are truly feeling. I don't do it. It's true, I don't. Why would I do such thing? Would it change anything?

I don't think so.

I bring the hot cup to my lips and take some spins. it's warm, unlike my heart.

My hands are warm like the coffee and my heart is cold like the weather.

I look outside one more time and it's not snowing anymore. The view is painted in a grey scale, but it never looked so beautiful.

I get up from the wooden chair I'm sat on and walk outside the coffee shop with my cup of black coffee in my hands. I like to think the color of it matches with my soul.

A beanie on my head, a scarf wrapped around my neck and a coat half zipped protects me from the cold New York streets but it's not the warm clothes that keeps my heart warm.

What would do the job? A hug?

I walk down the busy street, taking sips from my paper cup until there's no more coffee to drink. Deciding to stop at the central park, I throw my empty cup on a trash bin and sit down on a bench.

My eyes roam around my surroundings and I study them carefully. I like to study people, they take me out of my world, making me create a whole new one. A better one. It's my distraction when I have to escape from my own head.

Across from me and a several meters away, it's two kids playing with the snow. They look so happy while they throw snowballs at one another. A smile is placed on their lips while giggles escapes their mouths. Behind them, sat on a park bench is a couple in their thirties talking. They are probably the kids' parents. I bet they are talking about what they are going to do for dinner or where are they going on the next holidays.

I wonder if I'll ever be like them. Happy, married, with kids, a good job and a good house to match. I actually see a future with him, beside him and with his kids. Does he see the same with me? I won't keep my hopes high, but they are still there.

From my coat's pocket, I take out a pack of camel cigarettes along with a black lighter. Placing the cigarette between my lips, I light it up and take a deep drag.

The smoke fills my lungs in a sort of relief way. In a sigh, I exhale the smoke, forming a cloud in front of me.

This is kind of a ritual. After college, I go to the same coffee shop, order a black coffee and after half an hour I come to Central Park to smoke a cigarette.

The grey cloud in my lungs makes me feel alive while it slowly kills me. Smoke kills they say. But so does living.

Dumping my cigarette butt on the pavement and stepping on it with my boot, I set up from the cold park bench and start walking home.

On my way to my apartment I pass by the grocery store to buy dinner. I'm not really a great cooker, he told me himself once. But he didn't have to, I already knew that. Frozen pizza is my choice, his favorite. Pepperoni pizza. Personally, I prefer Hawaiian pizza, but I'll do anything to see him happy.

When I arrive home, it's empty and dark. He must be out with some friends. He always arrives after me, minutes before dinner. I put the groceries in the kitchen and go to my room to change for more comfortable clothes.

Now with some sweatpants and an old shirt on, I walk back to the kitchen to put the pizza in the oven.

The table is already set and the pizza almost cooked when I hear the apartment's door opening and close.

I turn around, my eyes meeting hazel and the corners of my lips curling up in a smile. I missed him so much.

"Hey babe." He sends me a soft smile, I can't help but feel my knees go weak. It feels like the first time I landed my eyes on him in my freshman year in college.

He was so kind and sweet to me. I was so lost and didn't know where to go and he helped me. From that day, we were friends and three months later we started dating. He was the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I love him so much.

Giving him a tight hug, I kiss him. "I missed you." I whisper softly.

"I miss you too babe." He kisses my temple and pulls away. "What's for dinner today?"

He sits down by the wooden kitchen table and I walk to the oven, checking if the pizza is ready. "Pepperoni pizza." I take the pizza out and place it in the middle of the table. "Your favorite." I smile at him.

"Smells good." He points.

Before sitting across from him, I pour some orange juice in two glasses. We start eating and the silence sinks in.

Nobody says anything. It's not like it's need to someone to talk. I'm fine with the silence. At the beginning, it made me self-conscious, but not anymore. I learnt to embrace it and that it's not a bad thing at all.

The silence speaks more and louder than words.

"How was your day?" He breaks the silence, for my surprise. he barely does it.

"It was normal." I reply. "What about yours?"

"It was ok." He says. "Today Calum invited me to go to this party, do you mind if I go?"

"No." I send him a smile. "Of course not."

"You're the best Madi." His smile is wide. I'm so happy I made him smile. I put that smile on his face.

But how can he tell me I'm the best when I'm the worse? Is he telling me just to feel better? Is it making me feel better?

"Is everything ok, babe?" He asks, a light frown on his face.

"Yeah." The smile never been so fake. "I'm fine."

"That's great." He steps up from his chair. "I better get going, I don't want to be late."

He just disappears, not even letting me say goodbye or give him a kiss.

"I'm just fine." I mutter to myself. 

I keep reminding him and myself, but day by day, it's feels more a lie than anything else. It's just something I keep telling myself that I know it's not true anymore.

And I think it never will.


	4. CIGARETTE 2

_**CIGARETTE 2** _

There's still no sun. It's covered by all the heavy grey clouds, those kind of clouds that means a warning.

The morning is cold and the fresh air hits my face as I walk down the street.

My hands touch the cool glass door and push it open. My body is engulfed in the warm air of the coffee shop and the strong smell of coffee hits my nostrils.

I order my black coffee, receiving it in a paper cup. The cup warms my hands as it always does.

I take small sips from the hot drink as I walk to the university campus.

Ashton didn't sleep home last night. He probably didn't bother to go back and went straight to university.

While he was away, partying with his maori friend, I was laying on our bed, his side colder than ever as the moonlight illuminated the room softly.

I couldn't stop thinking of him. Thinking about how much I love him, about the way his eyes light up every time he takes a good photo or how his lips curl up into a smile when he see something worth a picture.

I remember this time, two months after we started dating, we were just wandering around the Bronx and he started taking photos of me.

I asked him why wouldn't he stop taking pictures of me. The smile on his lips never faded as he replied: _'because you're the most beautiful and interesting thing in the world. That's what is worth to take photos of.'_

I never forgot those words until now and it has been two years.

Two years since I've got him. I'm so lucky to have him, I don't even know how I got such precious thing in my life.

I just love him so much.

The coffee shop is only fifteen minutes away from the campus, so I don't even bother to take a bus.

When I arrive, there's no more coffee on the paper cup and I throw it in a trash bin. I don't get inside just yet, I decide to sit by the fountain of Washington Square Park, the park in the middle of New York University Campus.

I light up a cigarette and look around. Everything is black and white. It's pretty.

The cigarette burns slowly as I take deep drags and when it finally comes to an end, I dump it on the pavement. Stepping on it, I walk to my first class.

♪♪♪

The day passed by, slipping through my fingers without me knowing.

When I find myself, I'm already at the coffee shop ordering the afternoon black coffee.

As I walk to my usual seat by the window, I notice a purple-haired boy at the back of the coffee shop, sat on a table. A sketchbook placed on the wooden round table along with a watercolor palette and a water-pencil in his hand. His gaze is focused on his painting, his hand moving so smoothly through the paper as he takes occasional sips from his coffee paper cup.

The sight is lovely. I can feel the love in his strokes from here, making me wonder what he's painting.

I sit down, placing the cup on the table. I decide to get some work done while I'm here because I know I'll probably won't have time or mood to do it while I'm home.

I take my laptop from my backpack and start writing the essay I have to due until tomorrow.

I don't know how much time it passed, but I know I don't have any more coffee and the essay is done. I finally got something done without any worries or breaks when my mind starts wondering about unnecessary things.

I glance at the time and it's late. Almost dinner time actually. Ashton is probably almost home, or even already there.

Today I won't pass by Central Park, I'll go straight home.

Packing my things, I look around and find the purple-haired boy is not here anymore. He must have left while I was so focused on my essay.

It took me a hour to get home, as always. It's nothing new.

When I arrive, the lights are off, meaning nobody's home. I check my phone noticing I have a text from Ashton saying he won't come home for dinner.

This is not the first time it happens.

But he normally only remembers to warn me when I have the dinner done.

I place my backpack on the couch and take my coat off, hanging it on the hook by the door.

Not hungry at all, I go change to something more comfortable and then sit on the couch, turning the television on.

I wonder how he is. I haven't seen him since last night and I miss him so much.

He feels more distant now than when we lived in different dorms. Last year we decided to move in together. He was the one who gave the idea and I was so happy about it.

It meant something, something good. It was the first sight of a good future together.

But now, that future seems so far away. Day by day it distances itself from me.

Taking my cigarette pack from my bag, I walk to the window and open it.

The cold winter air hits my face softly as I light up the cigarette. Resting my elbows on the windowsill, bending my body down, I exhale the smoke outside. The grey could fading into the air.

I hope it's just a phase. Things aren't the greatest, I know that.

We are distant.

I know I distanced myself from him. Unfortunately, but I did it without even my own acknowledge.

It happened, I can't even put a finger how.

But I don't know if it's just me who's getting distant or if he is too.

He seems more distant than ever. Barely home, always out partying or taking photos of pretty things.

Things aren't alright. I know that. It's not alright when you know you're slipping away from the one you love when you should be getting closer.

For Ashton, everything is always fine. Everything is always great.

But I know things aren't just as fine as he appears them to be.  
  
  
  



	5. CIGARETTE 3

_**CIGARETTE 3** _

The cool breeze of this Saturday morning hits my face softly, as I’m kneeled in my bed, elbows rested on the windowsill and Lana del Rey playing on the background.

It's relaxing. The way the cold wind seems to slash my bare arms while I contemplate the view of Bronx from my bedroom window.

 _'But you haven't seen my man,_  
_You haven't seen my man,_  
_You haven't seen my man,_  
_You haven't seen him._

 _He's got the fire and he walks with fame,_  
_He's got the fire and he talks with fame.'_

Her voice brings me peace along with a soft smile playing on my lips. The winter breeze is breathtaking, but I don't move away from the window or bother to close it. I let it turn my pale skin ice cold, so I can say I’m colder than my heart.

Today Ashton woke up super early for a Saturday morning. He usually sleeps until noon on weekends because he arrives super late at night. Today was not the case.

He didn't even go out last night, which surprised me, but when I woke up this morning, he had already left. I remember him telling me something about these pictures he had to take, maybe that's what he went to do.

I move to get my cigarettes’ pack from the bedside table and go back to my previous position. After taking a cigarette from the carton box, I place it on the windowsill. Before putting the cancer stick between my lips, and light it up, I let out a sigh, my eyes dancing through the buildings.

I finally take a deep drag from the cigarette as the music continues to play on the background.

 _'The sun also rises,_  
_On those who fail the call_  
_My life, it comprises,_  
_Of losses and wins and fails and falls'_

The smoke coming from the white and orange stick in my hand fades into the air.

Saturdays usually are good days and I wake up with a small smile on my lips. Not the case. I woke up just as unmotivated about the world and my life as the other days.

I don't even know why I even try.

I'm tired of trying. Before, I had a reason to keep going. Ashton. He was my reason. I know I still have him, but it doesn't feel the same.

Throwing the cigarette butt out the window, I close it and set up from the bed, walking in the wardrobe direction.

My eyes study my clothes. I take a pair of black skinny jeans out along with a oversized white sweater. I look at myself in the mirror and the purple bags under my brown eyes never looked so big and dark.

I barely slept last night. As Ashton slept like an angel, I started at him under the moonlight, how beautiful he looked.

I don't really use makeup, but today I’ll recourse to the concealer Elle gave me to hide the dark circles under my eyes. When I feel satisfied enough, I brush my hair with my finger carelessly and throw on a beanie.

With everything I need in my backpack, my jacket on along with my boots, I get out of my apartment.

Twenty minutes later walking through the Bronx streets, I decided to take the subway to Manhattan.

As always, it took me an hour to arrive to Manhattan. This was one of the things that I was afraid to move in with Ashton. The Bronx is far from University and every day I take an hour to get there. He really insisted and told that his grandparents had this small apartment for him to take after college, but he wanted to move in already and with me.

I thought it really was a good idea, I still think, but just not as much as I did a year ago. Before I moved in with him, I was sharing a dorm with my best friend, Elle.

Since I moved with Aston, Elle and I grew apart.  We don't see each other as much as we did before. We barely see each other in university because we are in different departments. I'm taking psychology and Elle’s taking art.

I miss them, it has been two weeks since I last saw them.

I'm referring Elle as they/them. You probably think that's weird. To be honest, I thought that too when in Semaphore year Elle told me they wanted to be referred as they/them and not she/her.

At first, I didn't understand quite well, but they explained me and I accepted of course. Elle is my best friend, if it wasn't them, I would be dead.

Literally.

The heat from the coffee shop engulfs my body and it feels nice.

With the paper cup already in my hand, I walk to my seat. And just like a few days ago, the purple-haired boy is sat by the same wooden table at the very back of the coffee shop, painting with watercolors on his sketchbook and a paper cup landed beside his palette.

I sit down on the opposite side I always sit, so I can eye the mysterious artist boy. I don't know why he intrigues me so much, but he does.

The view outside takes my attention away from him and I lost myself watching the snow fall slowly.  

I wish I could fall with the snow. Not because I want to fall, but it would mean I wasn't human, a piece of flesh with an useless brain, but a mere snowflake.

Sometimes I wish I wasn't here at all, in this world. I don't feel like I have a purpose. I'm just here, breathing. Living for me it's pointless, waste of time.

What's the purpose of living if you're not happy? What am I doing here if I can't enjoy it?

My phone buzzes in my jacket's pocket and I take it out. It's Ashton, saying he will only be home by dinner time.

Well, I guess I’ll have the day by myself. Again.

I've never felt so alone as I’ve been feeling for the past few months. Not only a few days, but months. This has been dragging since the beginning of the fall, and we are in the middle of winter.

But you know what, I stopped caring. It still hurts. But it hurts more if you care.

A sigh escapes my mouth as I rest my head in my hand. Taking a spin from my coffee, my eyes roam around the coffee shop. The mysterious boy is now standing up by the counter, receiving a new paper cup.

He goes back to his seat and continues painting.

Why does it still hurt? Why did it even start to hurt? Why am I not fine?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're probably confused (or not) with the pronouns thingy. Elle is a friend of mine and I decided to put them on the story because they fit perfectly in this character that's Madi’s Best Friend.
> 
> When I asked them some few basic things to put in the story, I also asked about the pronouns. I know there's people who aren't comfortable with the pronouns she/her or he/him, so before I made someone uncomfortable, I asked.
> 
> So yes, Elle will be referred as they/them, I hope it doesn't confuse you.


	6. CIGARETTE 4

**_CIGARETTE 4_ **

I bet people don't see, I hope they really don't. I hope they don't see the agony hiding behind my smile, notice the sorrow in my eyes.

Elle looks so happy. I try to be happy for them. The smile on their pretty face is so wide. Elle is such a pretty person, with their strawberry blond hair and green eyes with hints of chocolate.

They are talking about something that happened in their art class, but I've lost track of it long ago.

"Madi, are you listening?" Elle asks, probably noticing that my focus is everywhere but in what they are saying.

"Yeah, yeah."

The expression on their face shows they are not that convinced.

"Madi," she sighs. "I know-"

Before they can say anything else, I cut them off.

"I'm fine." I tell them. "I was just a  bit distracted, nothing more."

They shake their head and I look down at my half-eaten burger. I don't feel hungry anymore, but force myself to keep eating.

I search for some topic for a conversation, but nothing comes up.

"How's Ashton?" Elle asks, making my body tense.

"He's good." I gulp, my throat going dry. How would I know if he's good or not if he barely puts a foot home.

"Is everything ok between you two?" The suspicious look on their face is not a good sign. The questions will start and I'm not sure if have the answer for.

"Yeah."

"Madi, don't lie to me." They plead me, their eyes shining.

"I'm not." I reason. "We are just a bit distant because college is being a pain in the ass." I know they don't believe me by the look they're giving me. "Just that, I promise."

I don't know what to say to them, because I don't believe myself anymore.

Things aren't the greatest. They are actually pretty shitty and I don't have control in things. It's slipping through my fingers.

I used to believe things get better with time, but things are just getting worse.

The ice cube in my heart's place is starting to crack, opening gaps and it hurts.

The pain is uncontrollable making it hard to breath and takes my sleep away at night.

My gaze finds Elle's and I send them a small smile to reassure that I'm fine.

"I like your shirt." I change the subject. They are wearing a pastel pink sweater, a little big for their petite frame, but fitting them perfectly.

A soft smile shows on their lips. The thing always captivated me the most is Elle's smile. It's so soft and always show so much genuine.

"Thank you." Their voice is just as soft as the smile on their face.

We finished our meal in silence. I don't say anything and neither do they. It's not needed.

Between me and Elle, words were always something that we never needed.

♪♪♪

There's always one place where it feels like home. It's warm and the atmosphere is so welcoming, making you take a deep breath and sigh happily.

Everyone have one, maybe two. From libraries, museums, coffee shops to book or music stores.

Those are happy places. For me at least I can find something there that makes me feel welcomed.

The coffee shop 15 minutes away from the university campus is my favorite place from all the above, there's where I spent most of my time, although the music store in Bronx is one I like the most as well.

But there's this place where i am now that is giving me this warm feeling.

The Art supplies store in Manhattan. I'm not an artist person at all. I've never been those kind of people who paints or draws on their free time, it's something I was never capable to do. But being surrounded by many different kinds of art supplies is conforming.

Elle is looking for tubes of acrylic ink while I look around, walking through the aisles, astounded by all the different supplies that you can use to paint, draw or sculpture.

While I'm two aisles away from Elle, looking at different kinds of watercolors, I hear their excited voice. I don't understand what they are saying, but I know it's them.

I peek my head over the side of the aisle and see Elle hugging the purple-haired boy I see almost every day at the coffee shop painting.

My chest hurts at the sight. Ashton and I used to be like that. I don't know what Ashton and I are anymore. Are we dating? Best friends, mere people who know each other, strangers?

Looking back at the watercolors in the shelf, I ignore the pain in my chest. My eyes study the different colors like I know what I'm looking at.

Through the corner of my eye, I see the purple haired lad coming in my direction. But he stops, his eyes focused on the  the shelf. I see his eyes narrowing around, looking for what he needs.

I walk away.

It still hurts. The thought of Ashton hurts when it should warm my heart.

“Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you.” Elle snaps me out of my thoughts. They look at me with a sweet smile.

“Yeah, I was just-” I cut myself off, not sure about what I was going to say. “I should go.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, Ashton must be waiting for me at home.” It felt like a lie. Probably it is. I don't know if he is, but I bet he's not.

“Ok,” They frown.

“I'll see you around.” I send them a weak smile which they send back.

“Sure.”

My body is engulfed by the cold air of the street and I make my way to the subway.

I don't know if home is where I want to be. I want to be in his arms, where I used to be all the time.

His warm arms around my cold body, while his voice would whisper a song in my ear and his lips would leave times to times a light kiss on my skin.

That would make me feel better.

But when will I have that?  
When will I feel better?  
When will I be alright?


	7. CIGARETTE 5

**_CIGARETTE 5_ **

People talk. People talk bad things, good things. People talk about everything and they talk about nothing.

I hear them talking, I hear their voices. But I don't hear what they say. It's nothing of my concern.

The coffee shop is busy this saturday afternoon. All the tables are taken and the line is huge. I don't remember the last time I saw this place like this.

I'm sat on my usual seat, doing nothing at all but drinking my black coffee in peace. Sometimes I listen to music, not the case today.

I have a book in front of me, but i'm not giving it much attention.

Just me, the coffee and all the people around me as the soundtrack.

The weather is getting warmer, making the snow outside melt slowly. The spring starts in exact eighteen days, which is good. I love the transition from season to season.

It's astounding the way the world around change with the seasons. The way the scenario changes. When winter ends and spring starts you stop seeing white streets to start seeing more colorful things around you.

"Huh- hey." Someone clears their throat beside me, stopping my train of thoughts and I look up, finding the last person I expected to see. The purple-haired boy.

"Hey?" I frown, not understanding quite well why he's standing beside me.

"C-can I sit with you? All the other tables are taken."

I don't think about it too much, I never do when it's time to make decisions.

"Sure." I nod.

He gives me a thankful smile, placing his paper cup on the table and his backpack falling from his shoulder, landing on the floor beside his feet.

"I'm Michael, by the way." He says. His sketchbook already placed on the table beside his coffee along with his watercolor palette.

"Madi."

I look back to my book. My gaze moves up without my head moving and I watch him painting something, someone.

Even with all the noise around us, it's silence. You can hear it.

Silence speaks louder than every word. Interesting, don't you think?

Sometimes there are no need of words, but there are times that not even words are enough.

There are things that aren't explained by words. Some times words ruin everything. Words can change everything. Some times for better, others for worse.

There are times I battle with myself if I should talk or not. Because as words can be an answer and so does silence. People can misunderstand my words and also my lack of them.

What's the right answer then?

"Madi?" His voice is low and soft, brining back to the nightmare of reality.

I look away from my book, our gaze meeting. His eyes are so green and bright. So beautiful.

"Yeah?"

"Are you ok?" There's a question I don't hear often. Everyone asks me how I am, not if I'm ok.

"Yeah." A nod accompanies my answer, but all he does is frown.

"You've been staring at the same page for the last five minutes." He says, looking at me with those eyes. "You're not reading."

I lick my lips, looking for an answer. Before I could find any, he speaks up again.

"You look tired, like you haven't sleep for days."

How does he know? How did he notice?

"I've been having some troubles sleeping."

My mind wonders around the fact that he noticed. Ashton never noticed that. He never asked if I slept well. He never looked at me and saw the tiredness in my eyes.

"I know you're probably find it very creepy, I swear I'm not a creeper. But I see you everyday sat on that same chair and you always look so tired." Well, I think I'm not the one who sometimes watch people and study them for a while. I did the same with him.

"I haven't catch many sleep these last couple of weeks, that's all..."

"Something must be messing with your mind and not letting you sleep, what's wrong?"

A complete stranger just asked me what is wrong while my boyfriend when looks at me is to say that he's going out.

I always thought he never asked what was wrong because I hid it too well. That I was good at hiding things, that he never noticed the tiredness in my eyes. And now this guy that I just met, asks me what's wrong because he can see through from my face something is up.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. We just met." He lets out a sigh, his head falling down.

"Oh, no. There's nothing wrong in that." For moments, I feel like I mattered something. There was someone who cared enough to ask what's wrong even though I never give the right answer. A stranger cared enough to ask. "And don't worry, it's just college. I have a lot in my mind right now, and sometimes it takes my sleep away."

It's not a complete lie.

His gaze meets mine again and his eyes are so captivating.

"I know the feeling." He sighs once again. I take that as my cue to leave.

"Well, it was really nice to meet you Michael, but I have to go. I'll see you around." I set up from my chair grabbing my book and half-full paper cup.

"Sure thing." He sends me a smile which I send back and walk out of the warm coffee shop.

I couldn't help but let the smile form in my lips.

♪♪♪

After dinner I was ready to have my netflix session with Ashton. After so long, we were going to spend some good time together. Until he showed up at the living room all dressed up.

"Where are you going?" I frown at him. He looks good, too good really, but we were supposed to have a lazy night.

"There's this frat party going on tonight and I was invited." He shrugs, ready to grab is jacket.

"But we were supposed to watch Game of Thrones together, remember?"

"Babe, c'mon. I really want to go to this party." He complains, dressing is leather jacked up and I just sigh heavily. "Do you wanna come?" I wasn't expecting his invitation, but I wasn't the one to refuse.

I need time with him and if I need to go to a frat party to be by his side, I will.

"Let me just change."

The last thing I want is to regret this.


End file.
